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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719859">a room full of</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageyamaismysetter/pseuds/firstloveisajam'>firstloveisajam (kageyamaismysetter)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:56:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719859</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageyamaismysetter/pseuds/firstloveisajam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>taken directly from my notes: "a person meets another person, who is not really a person and cannot touch a human being without being sent back in time or space or wherever she or he came from"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>The room is dark, illuminated only by the gentle beam of the moon. Toys are pushed to the side and pile against a blue wall. The tinkling of the music player has been silent for a while now. A clock ticks, but its sound is muffled by the heaviness that settles on the darkest hours. Even the even, paced breathing of sleeping bodies can barely be heard through the soundlessness.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>	A boy sits up in bed, blankets rustling. His pillow hits the floor with a dull thud. The quiet is broken.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>	He stares into the corner of the room opposite his bed. “Hello?” His babyish voice carries through the space. He doesn’t get an answer, but he can see someone sitting in the corner anyway. That’s okay, maybe the man is shy. He was shy, too, and didn’t know how to talk to his classmates, until Jihoon and Mingyu decided they would all be best friends together. The fond memory strengthens the boy’s resolve; he would be this man’s new friend! Then he could introduce the man to Jihoon and Mingyu, and they could finally play a real game of dodgeball.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>	But as the boy gets out of bed and pads his way across the carpet, the man seems to get more and more nervous, body shaking and eyes darting. The boy crouches in front of the man, maintaining a short distance (“Remember, children, to keep your hands to yourselves!” he remembers his teacher chirping). The man’s eyes are cautious, but the glint of the moonlight makes them shine, and the boy can see two tigerish eyes staring back at him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>	He smiles brightly. “Hi! What’s your name?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The man gulps. He hesitates, before whispering into the darkness, “It’s S-”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>	“HYUNG!” A shriek cuts across the courtyard, heads whipping towards the source to see a 187-centimeter tall giant wildly shaking his arms. A shorter, disgruntled Jihoon walks leisurely behind him, playing a game on his phone. Wonwoo, who had been carrying a box of books, nearly drops it at the yell but smiles when he sees his best friends. “HYUNG, CATCH ME!” Mingyu squeals, right as he reaches Wonwoo, arms open wide. Unfortunately for him, Wonwoo neatly sidesteps him and Mingyu nearly trips on Wonwoo’s other boxes. Jihoon smiles and takes a photo.</p><p>	“Hey Mingyu,” Wonwoo laughs into his arm, “how have you been?”</p><p>	Mingyu pouts. “Hyung, you were supposed to drop everything in your arms and <i>catch</i> me,” he whines. “I <i>missed</i> you all the summer, even though you rudely <i>ignored</i> me!” A quick flick on the forehead from Jihoon stops the whining, but Mingyu’s lower lip is still protruding.</p><p>	“I’m not saying it this time if you don’t stop,” Jihoon half-grumbles. “I’ve had to endure an entire week of Mingyu planning out how he would dramatically and majestically run to you, and despite all of the talking, all he did was almost trip in front of everyone.” Mingyu glares at him but continues: “Hyung, I really did miss you, and since you didn’t reply, you get to buy me-” (“Us!” Jihoon interjects) “-us dinner so we can catch up!”</p><p>	Ah, tradition - every time they return to campus from a break, Mingyu teasingly slanders Wonwoo’s communication skills, though he himself is slow to reply to texts and emails. Jihoon, though having grown tired of the joke after the third time, still dutifully answers with something along the lines of <i>Wonwoo lives in the middle of Bumblefuck where wifi doesn’t exist yet<i>. In return, Wonwoo buys them whatever hot meal he can afford on a college student’s budget. It’s a humble but perfect start to the semester.</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	Resettling the box in his arms, Wonwoo retorts, “Come on, you fools, I have to finish lugging my stuff up. Then we can go for meat, and I’ll answer any question you have for me, promise.” Mingyu squeals and Jihoon nods approvingly, and they both move to help Wonwoo with the rest of his boxes, but only because, as Jihoon makes clear, “the sooner we get you settled, the sooner we get to eat.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	It’s truly amazing how efficient three college-aged males can be when the promise of meat lures in front of them, and Wonwoo is quickly moved into the apartment they decided to rent together. It is modest but spacious, old but clean and functional. There is a nice kitchen, a living room large enough for them to have “intimate get-togethers,” and two bedrooms, one of which is Wonwoo’s own. (He is forever thankful to have won that particularly stressful game of rock, paper, and scissors.) Most of his time moving in is spent organizing his bookshelves and desk, the two pieces of furniture most important to him. Armed with a dust cloth and a keen eye, Wonwoo wipes the surfaces and meticulously orients everything, from his pile of bookmarks to his pen holders. Mingyu and Jihoon busy themselves by hanging all of Wonwoo’s clothes in his wardrobe and putting his toiletries in the bathroom.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	“Wonwoo!” Mingyu calls out as he and Jihoon reach the end of the clothes. “I think bedding is the only big thing left, so we’ll leave you to that and get ready to eat,” he winks, before scurrying out of the room.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	“Yeah, thanks for helping!” he calls back. He turns to the empty bed, sweeping any potential dust off the bare mattress before adroitly tucking in his sheets and placing a plump comforter over the tight surface. Pleased, Wonwoo reaches for the bag that held his bedding and feels around for a pillow - only to have his hand brush against a small, rough edge.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	<i>What?</i></i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	After sending a quick prayer that he didn’t touch a dead bug, Wonwoo grabs the edge and pulls out a piece of paper, worn but smooth. He stares at it. There’s a child’s sketch of a face with sharply slanted eyes. There’s another face next to it, obviously done by someone with a steadier hand - a small face with messy hair and glasses. He turns the paper over, but the other side is blank, and there’s nothing alluding to the drawing.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	He sharply sucks in a breath, a small and sudden realization sprouting. <i>It wasn’t a dream?</i></i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	“Wonwoo!” Jihoon’s voice breaks his reverie. “I’m hungry!”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Wonwoo shakes his head. This could all be a coincidence, and he doesn’t have the time to wrack his head over a hazy <strike>dream</strike> <strike>memory</strike> <strike>experience</strike>. Still…</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Wonwoo?” Jihoon pokes his head in. “If you’re done, can we go? I promise you’ll have more time to organize your room later tonight but I am starving and I will eat Mingyu if I have to,” he deadpans. Wonwoo looks up and forces a smile, despite feeling shaky.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Let’s go!”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And with that, the boys whisk themselves away to the nearest cozy restaurant.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	“Mingyu and I have been so bored all summer, which is dumb since we were supposed to be orientation leaders for all the summer sessions,” Jihoon complains half an hour later, “but then they told us last minute that they hired too many people, and so we got cut. At least they felt bad enough to give us free housing.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	Mingyu wipes away a fake tear. “You have no idea how upset I am about not being able to meet any of the fresh faces and young blood coming into our school,” he dramatically melts into Jihoon. He is instantly pushed back into an upright position and has a piece of meat in his mouth before he can complain.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	“It’s truly their loss, Mingyu. Those freshmen now will never have the honor of knowing someone as cool as you,” Wonwoo mourns back theatrically, punctuating the end of his words by popping a piece of <i>samgyeopsal</i> into his mouth.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	Jihoon shakes his head sadly, though the corners of his mouth are slightly quirked up. “Why can’t you guys be normal? Why are my only friends fake-theater majors?” His eyes widen and his tiny smile shrinks as he sees Wonwoo and Mingyu start to inch closer to him. “N-no, NO, do NOT hug me, I swear I will smack both of youssfffff!” he finishes desperately, enveloped in a sweaty hug.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	“Because we love you!” they chorus, and all of them, even Jihoon, fall into laughter.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>	He’s absorbed in the moment fully. Tightening his hold on the two best people on the planet, Wonwoo is too preoccupied to notice what’s going on around him. But maybe it’s because Wonwoo’s face is buried too deeply into the crevice between Jihoon’s shoulder and Mingyu’s arm, and Mingyu is refusing to let go despite Jihoon’s best threats, that he doesn’t look up and see it. Or, even if he did, maybe it’s also because the meat restaurant is more crowded than usual, that the table vents, despite doing their best, can’t manage to suck up all the smoke and the gray exhaust clouds his vision. Or, even later, when he’s home and is neatly taping biology posters to his wall, he’s too busy thinking about all the plant classes he wants to take in the upcoming year, headphones on and playing classic Disney bops, that he doesn’t quite realize -</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>- that there’s a set of tigerish eyes, glowing, fixated on and following him.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there are two notes at the end of this chapter for some reason (i never claimed to be tech-savvy!), but the second note is meant for the first chapter - so sorry for any confusion or inconvenience!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In his entire college career so far, Jeon Wonwoo has always had perfect attendance. How could he not? He has an amazing, foolproof, invincible game plan.</p><p>First, an alarm that guaranteed an immediate response - Mingyu, drunk-screaming at the top of his lungs about his <strike>secret</strike> crush on Jihoon. If Wonwoo didn’t wake up at that alarm, Mingyu would make sure he did.</p><p>Second, minimal morning actions - an orange-scented face wash that would both waken and refresh his heavy eyes; a monotone wardrobe that made even dressing in the dark a piece of cake; a wrapped bagel, already slathered with strawberry cream cheese, accompanied by a full water bottle.</p><p>Third, loving all of his classes - using passion for the world of academia was crucial to launching oneself out of bed and onto campus as soon as possible. The bases of his DNA were not, in fact, A and C and G and T, but rather N and E and R and D. It wasn’t his most preferred label but if genuine enthusiasm about learning and academia meant he was a nerd, then so be it.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>The night before his first day of classes, Wonwoo made sure his pencil case was well-stocked, his backpack filled with the necessary notebooks and an academic planner. He checked and double-checked his alarm before plugging his phone into a charger.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>He checked the weather for the morning, and, seeing rain, stuffed an umbrella in one of the side pockets of his backpack. He made a bagel and cut fruit as a snack, placing both in the fridge after he was done.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>He even set out his black Converse hightops, the laces left untied. It was foolproof, and he would waltz into class ten minutes early, pick a seat anywhere in the three front rows, and sit, ready to absorb and learn.</p><p>
  <i>And yet.</i>
</p><p>When Wonwoo wakes the next day, the sun filters in through the window, a little brighter than usual. Rather than the blaring sound of his alarm, he hears nothing. He carefully extends his arm to grab his phone, squinting his eyes against the blue light as he checks the time.</p><p>9:14 A.M.</p><p>He closes his eyes.</p><p>He opens them again.</p><p>
  <i>What the fuck.</i>
</p><p>It’s amazing how his panic response activates immediately. His heart rate doubles, and he can already feel cold sweat forming on his back. Quickly he calculates how much time he has left - if he wants to make it to his 9:30 class on time, he’ll have to be out the door by 9:22.</p><p>He can do this.</p><p>He haphazardly washes his face, then throws a clean sweater over blue jeans. He throws his backpack on, tearing into his bagel as he struggles to tie his sneakers on. He fails. Curses. Gets up and starts running anyway.</p><p>Time check - 9:20 A.M. Good. He was two minutes faster than he thought. However, campus is usually an eleven-minute walk away from his apartment - fifteen if Wonwoo is feeling extra sentimental and relaxed - so to try to get to class and not be tardy is nearly impossible. Especially with a bagel flailing out of one’s mouth. <i>Especially</i> with a bagel flailing out of one’s mouth and a heavy backpack weighing down on one’s back. <i><b>Especially</b></i> with a bagel flailing out of one’s mouth and a heavy backpack weighing down on one’s back and sneakers with laces in a knotted mess. At some point during his mad dash, Wonwoo drops his bagel. He can’t be bothered - some things in life are simply more important than strawberry cream cheese!</p><p>It’s 9:28 A.M. when Wonwoo finally makes it into his lecture. The first few rows are taken up by people (with (presumably) working alarms), but there are still plenty of seats in the middle rows. Slightly sweaty and out of breath, he slides himself into the closest seat and breathes deeply.</p><p>He’s thankful that the first class is just an overview of the syllabus. The professor finishes early and lets everyone go, leaving Wonwoo time to go through the syllabus again carefully. There’s a list of books and materials he’ll need, most of which he has already. The one book he doesn’t have, <i>Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor</i>, is at the campus bookstore.</p><p>After the chaos of the morning, Wonwoo just wants peace. <i>I’ll walk, leisurely and slowly, to get my book, and then I’m going to treat myself to some coffee</i>, he grimly determines. He frowns. He was so sure he had turned on his alarm and plugged in his phone - what happened this morning? This almost never happened to him. <i>Whatever, just shake it off. Life happens! Don’t let one morning affect you so strongly,</i> he chastises himself. <i>Now, walk!</i></p><p>The sky is gray, clouds threatening to spill over, but the clear weather holds, and Wonwoo strolls peacefully. His earbuds are in, playing Glass Animals’ “Youth,” and the sunshine peeking through the clouds is warm on his skin. He feels the jitters from the morning start to leave his body.</p><p>When he sees the bright sign reading <i>Read on Me</i>, he pushes the horde of students there and through the glass doors. It doesn’t take him long to find his book - most of the other students here are first-years who didn’t buy their books ahead of time, and Wonwoo’s book is for a 200-level course. The line, though, is long, and the inside of the store is noisy and crowded, and Wonwoo has to wait for longer than usual to make his purchase. Once he does, though, he feels the anxiety from the morning leave him completely. There’s nothing like a brand new book to put one in the best mood possible! The shiny cover, the pages smooth and unbent, the ink of darkest black, the promise of new ideas waiting to be read - Wonwoo is beyond excited to start reading this one.</p><p>Humming, Wonwoo leaves <i>Read on Me</i> to get himself coffee. The promise of caffeine lifts Wonwoo’s spirits, and he turns up his music, in a good mood.</p><p>He shouldn’t have done that.</p><p>Too busy jamming out to his playlist, Wonwoo doesn’t notice the crowd of people suddenly shifting and parting, making way for a running student. He doesn’t hear the panicked cries of “Watch out!” He definitely does feel the sudden gust of wind that hits him - not until he’s on his side. He makes a quick assessment - dull pain, but his head didn’t hit the sidewalk, his glasses aren’t cracked. His hand feels empty. As he raises his head, he sees his book on the ground but (thankfully) unscathed.</p><p>Until the student, who had parted the crowd like Moses parted the Red Sea, steps and slips on Wonwoo’s book, cleanly ripping off the front cover from the rest of the book.</p><p>He lets his head fall to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t really register what happens next, but he knows someone pulled him up so he was at least sitting on the ground, and the student who was running is apologizing profusely. Ah, he must be one of <i>those</i> first-years.</p><p>“I’ll buy you a new copy soon,” he squeaks tearfully. “I’m so sorry! But I’m very late for class, and it’s my first day!” He grabs the detached cover of Wonwoo’s book and scribbles on it. Wonwoo’s blood boils. The fucking <i>disrespect</i>. The first-year thrusts the cover at Wonwoo, telling him it’s his number, and to please let him buy a new copy, and then is off, running even faster than before.</p><p>It all happens so fast that Wonwoo can’t fully process it. He just stares at his bent and dirty book and sighs for the nth time that day. Maybe, instead of coffee, he should have a nice, strong drink. Like soju. Jihoon will probably join him, so Wonwoo doesn’t have to wallow alone.</p><p>But he has another morning class tomorrow. Getting drunk will have to wait until the weekend. For now, he decides to stick to his original plan, and, after brushing off dirt from his legs and butt, makes his way cautiously to <i>The BEANing of Life</i>, planning on getting the largest cup they offer.</p><p>He decides to put his headphones and book away, giving himself ample use of his limbs to escape or protect himself from any surprise attack. He doesn’t remember the first-year actually bumping into him, so he doesn’t understand how he fell over so abruptly. He doesn’t think anyone else actually knocked him over, either. Regardless, this has been a particularly confusing and stressful morning (it’s not even lunchtime yet, what the fuck), and Wonwoo desperately wants some caffeine in his body.</p><p>He’s thankful when he makes it to the coffee shop without any incident. As soon as he opens the doors and walks over the threshold, lightning claps and rain begins to drizzle. Wonwoo doesn’t know whether to be grateful or affronted, but he’s glad he’s packed his umbrella. Fortunately, the lunch rush doesn’t seem to have hit the cafe yet, so Wonwoo quickly gets in line and orders his usual, throwing in a cake pop to soothe his distressed soul. He pays, then moves over to the pick-up counter. He pulls out his phone while he waits, thinking about how to text this first-year, if he even <i>wants</i> to go through the trouble. Probably not, but he should text the first-year and let him know, anyway.</p><p><b>Send to: 555-555-0211</b><br/>
hi. you ripped my book earlier. there’s no need for you to pay for a new copy.</p><p>Ah, that sounds mean. Wonwoo has no desire to be kind to the person who ripped and wrote on his book, but he’s not heartless, either.</p><p><b>Send to: 555-555-0211</b><br/>
hi! you said you’d pay for my book? you don’t need to worry about it! :)</p><p>Is it just him, or does this attempt sound . . . peppy yet creepy?</p><p><b>Send to: 555-555-0211</b><br/>
hey, i’m the guy from the bookstore - don’t worry about the book, it’s all good</p><p>That sounds the least weird. He’ll go with that one. <i>Send</i>.</p><p>“A large black with no sugar, no milk! Strawberry cake pop!” the worker behind the counter shouts. That’s Wonwoo. He walks over and reaches for the cup and paper bag and turns around -</p><p> - coming face to face with the most striking pair of eyes he’s ever seen. They’re piercing and slanted, like a tiger’s, and something about them seems familiar. Wonwoo’s eyes wander down, to a set of pink lips, a sharp jaw, broad shoulders and chest, and - <i>is that a strap tied around his thiGHS oh my GOD, should i ask if i can call him daddy, wait a minute, that’s an interesting pattern for jeans-</i></p><p>Wonwoo looks up, bewildered. He has dropped his very large, very hot cup of coffee. Right onto this beautiful stranger’s beautiful jeans.</p><p>“Actually end me,” he whisper-screams, before grabbing his cake pop and what’s remaining of his dignity before darting out the door and into the rain. He doesn’t take his umbrella out of his backpack.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is a very late update, but life happened and then school happened and then it is now april 2021.<br/>i do want to continue this fic until it's finished, so i'm not giving up on this! more is coming, i promise! and thank you for reading - i feel honored that you read my work! :,-)</p><p>also the book i mention in this chapter is one i actually own and read, and i *highly* recommend! as well as the song i've put in hehe</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>italics stopped working halfway through this chapter and it's stressing me out, but it's cool we're cool i'm cool</p><p>in my story mingyu is a genius (although he's really intelligent irl - that escape the room episode was so COOL) and he skips a grade so he, jihoon, and wonwoo are all third-years</p><p>also in korean meat restaurants there is a grill in the middle of each table and a vent for the smoke to go into over each grill and they're quite convenient and efficient</p><p>thank you for reading! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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